


I Love You, Regardless

by alwaysyou



Series: The Fall and Thrill Of It All [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Banter, Bottom Harry, Bottom Louis, Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, Harry loves plants, Light Angst, Louis is an OBGYN, M/M, Mpreg, Mpreg Harry, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, Top Harry, Top Louis, infertility scare, they kinda share that really, whole lots of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 02:47:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12621428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwaysyou/pseuds/alwaysyou
Summary: “I’m scared,” Harry whispers.“I know, I am too. It’s all going to be fine, yeah? I’m going to love you, regardless.”“Promise?”“Always, H.”“Even if I can’t give you what you want?” His eyes are welling up with tears, voice becoming shaky.OrLouis and Harry try to get pregnant but when months pass with nothing, Louis suggests to Harry that one of them may be infertile.





	I Love You, Regardless

**Author's Note:**

> I had to. I fell too much in love with writing their relationship in this AU that I _had_ to make this into a series/verse of its own. 
> 
> This can totally be read as a stand-alone fic, but reading the one before it would help establish a background between Louis and Harry. That being said, it isn't completely necessary, just recommended. 
> 
> The only warning I have for this is there is a theme of an infertility scare, and the thoughts that come with the suggestion one might be infertile. I know that's a super sensitive topic amongst some, so I figured I'd give a bit of a heads up. It's not anything too drastic, it's light, but it's still the common theme of this work. 
> 
> I, of course, don't have a beta because I'm still impatient. So all mistakes are my own. Sorry.
> 
> A friendly neighborhood disclaimer that while I did create a unique universe with characters of my own, I do not own the likeliness of the names of these characters. I do not own One direction, nor am I claiming any of this happened. It's 100% fictional, I'm not trying to be sued so go easy on me. If so, what are you guys even doing reading fics? Do you link your lawyers to them? Is that a thing? I'm pretty sure this is legal. Whatever.

Silverware clinks, the smell of maple syrup lingering in the air around them.

“How’s your mouth?” Harry asks before taking a bite of his chocolate chip waffle.

“It’s been over a month and a half,” Louis replies, reaching for his orange juice. “It’s fine.”

“Okay.”

They eat breakfast in silence, perched next to each other on barstools at their kitchen’s breakfast bar, chairs angling in towards each other. Their living room is behind them and the large window is cracked, carrying in the soft, morning Autumn breeze.

“How’s your ass?”

Louis’ fork falls to his plate as he turns to face Harry, “what do you mean ‘how’s my ass’?”

“Still gorgeous as ever, I presume,” Harry takes a gulp of his juice. “Wouldn’t know, though, haven’t seen it lately.”

Louis’ eyes narrow.

“Are you saying you want to top more? Right now, during breakfast on a Monday?”

“Nope, just asking how your ass is doing. It could be under stress, early signs of prostate cancer, irritable bowel syndrome starting to kick in — I mean you _are_ coming up on 30.

Louis is gaping at him, but he rambles on, counting off on his fingers.

“Could be experiencing itching, hemorrhoids, anal fissures or even a rectal prolapse. Prostate infection, maybe an STD, there are several things that could be going on with your ass, Louis.”

“Okay,” he reaches for his fork as he continues to squint at him. “Spill it. What’s up?”

“What? Nothing is up. Your ass possibly, if I topped more like you had suggested—”

“Okay, yeah. You’re doing that thing where you ask excessive questions to cover up your nerves.”

“Didn’t know you studied my habits.”

“I’ve known you since high school, ‘course I can spot your habits. Like how you just ratted yourself out by saying you _are_ covering up your nerves.”

“I…”

Louis quirks his eyebrow and takes a bite of bacon, “you…?”

“I think I’m pregnant,” he admits, all in one quick breath.

Louis stops chewing. “You think you’re pregnant,” he parrots, voice flat. 

“Yes?" 

Louis nods, swallows and wipes his hands on a napkin, “you think you’re pregnant.”

“Um…”

He stands up slowly, back facing Harry as he takes a deep breath. He turns around spontaneously, eyes crinkling as his smile grows. “You think you’re pregnant,” he exclaims, hands cupping over his mouth. “You think you’re pregnant,” he repeats again, this time whispering in awe.

Harry nods self-consciously.

“Holy fuck, oh my—”

“Wait, wait, before you go all over the top, I haven’t really… taken the test yet, I just. Think I am. It’s a possibility, it feels—” 

“Harry!” he shouts, “what the fuck are you waiting for? Get up!” He pulls Harry out of the seat, pushing him towards the front door, “go buy a test, what the hell!” He shoves his car keys into his hand and pushes his wallet into his chest, “go go go!"

 

**. . .**

 

Harry is more nervous than he thinks he should be as he’s standing in the aisle of the supermarket. Not just any aisle but _the_ aisle. In front of him are boxes of pregnancy tests, ovulation tests with condoms to his left. He can’t bring himself to reach out and grab one. There’s—God, there’s so many. Who needs this many choices? He’s a simple man, he just needs a yes or no.

He gets distracted wondering why the hell someone would need the results sent to their phone and how that even works. He knows he’s purposely distracting himself to avoid buying one, he _knows_ this.

He can’t wrap his head around why something that’s supposed to be so happy is so, so stressful. There’s so much anxiety behind it. So much anxiety behind doing something as simple as picking up a box.

The possibility of there being an actual, living human being inside of him at this very moment sends adrenaline wrecking through his body. His hand involuntarily goes to rest on his stomach as he chews on his nail. Everything could change the moment he removes a box. 

He rips it off like a band-aid. He grabs whichever box his hand comes in contact with first and speed walks down the aisle to the self-checkout. His hands fumble as he enters his pin number on the number pad. He’s glad—and slightly ashamed— that it’s over within under 5 minutes.

He practically runs to the car, throwing the bag into the passenger seat like it’s going to burn him and puts himself at as much distance from it as he can. He grips the steering wheel and hangs his head, letting out a big breath.

He glances at the bag in the seat out of his peripheral and thinks about Louis. Most importantly, he thinks back to how much he fucking hated him when they first met.

Louis was dating Gemma’s best friend at the time, so he wasn’t a stranger to the Styles’ home, but they had never truly met throughout his early school years. Louis was obnoxious, loud, and annoying. To some degree, he still is. He hadn’t heard the best stories about Louis from eavesdropping on his sister’s drama sessions, the funniest one being Gemma’s best friend admitting Louis didn’t fuck well. Obviously Harry has debunked that now, realizing Louis just doesn’t fuck  _women_ well. That’s beside the point.

The point is, they hated each other in passing. Harry couldn’t stand him, and Louis rolled his eyes whenever Harry tried to butt into a conversation to involve himself. Truth is, he just wanted Louis to notice him. It was Louis’ goal to stay as far out of Harry’s life as he could, up until Halloween when they were 16 and 18.

They were at the same Halloween party after Harry managed to sneak his way in with his upper level, much cooler friends. Louis was perched on the curb outside alone smoking a cigarette. There weren’t any lights on the street, save for one causing an orange glow to cast over him. Harry remembers this because it was the first time he realized how sharp Louis’ cheekbones were, how beautiful orange looked on his golden skin. There was an empty clearing that began across the street in front of him.

Harry came around from the back of the house, a stumble in his step. When he spotted Louis, the alcohol in his system went against him and he opened his mouth despite wanting anything less.

 

_“That’s bad for the environment, you know.”_

  _Louis turns to him with his eyebrows raised as he blows faint, translucent smoke into the air._

" _Neither is drinking alcohol.”_

_No, it isn’t,” Harry giggles into the back of his hand._

  _Louis chuckles dryly. “The wine production industry does harm the environment, saw it on the news the other day and everything.”_

_“I wasn’t drinking wine.”_

_“Still. Take your own advice and save the environment, or whatever, but don’t come tryna make me feel bad for a smoke, yeah?” He takes another drag._

_“I’m not trying… I’m just saying,” Harry waves off with his hand, “the environmental impact of alcohol production and consumption is sustainably less impactful than the tobacco industry. To produce cigarettes, you need large tobacco fields, which lead to a large increase in deforestation. Not to mention the waste runoff from manufacturing is made up of imidacloprid and dichloropropene. You smoking that is killing all of us, so, thanks, asshole.”_

_Louis looks shocked and sort of freaked out._

_“Okay then, Wikipedia. Do you always get like this when you’re drunk?”_

_“I’m not drunk, just passionate and a tad tipsy.”_

_“As enlightening as that was, try not to approach people with that environmental nerd rant, it’ll scare people off. Do you really think someone like you is going to change anything? C’mon.”_

_Hurt flashes across Harry’s face._

" _You’re very self-absorbed and narcissistic.”_

_Louis raised his eyebrows, prompting Harry to continue._

_“Which is a damn shame for how beautiful you are.”_

_Louis scrunches his nose up in disgust, “men can’t be beautiful, don’t say that shit to me again.”_

_Harry considers it for a moment. “Whatever you’re going through that’s damaging enough to reflect it onto me, I hope you work it out and find peace with yourself. Have a nice night, Louis.”_

_Harry turns to walk across the street, looking back at him. “Don’t forget to stub that when you put it out, wouldn’t want you to cause unnecessary fires.”_

_With that, Louis watches in shock as he disappears across the open field._

 

Harry rolls his eyes at the memory as he pulls the seat belt over his chest and starts the engine. He still can’t believe they went from hating each other to potentially having a family together.

Harry would soon come to figure out Louis _was_ going through something. A sexuality crisis, not that it was hard to guess. When they finally got together in college after being roommates because it was ‘easiest’ and Louis claimed “You’re the only one I know, Haz, I don’t want to be paired up with a, like, murderer or something”, he asked Louis why he hated him so much that night. Louis had vulnerably admitted he had found Harry cute, and his only defense mechanism was to scare Harry away. Harry understood—it took a while— and eventually told him he’s glad he finally stopped being such a dick long enough for Harry to love him.

Getting _together_ hadn’t been an easy process for them, Louis led Harry on for almost a year before kissing him and running away. He didn’t tell Harry why the hell he kissed him until Harry cornered him and pried it out of him.

Harry had been in love with Louis far before Louis loved him back, but that was okay. Harry had always promised he’d wait, and he’s just happy he came around.

 

**. . .**

 

Louis is on his heels before he gets through the door. He’s practically bouncing up and down and shouting over Harry’s shoulder.

“Did you get it? Was everything okay? I’ve been worried out of my mind, you weren’t texting back I thought—”

“Louis,” he cuts him off as he toes off his shoes, “everything is fine. I got it,” he shakes the bag in the air.

“You aren’t happy,” Louis points out. “Why aren’t you happy? This is exciting, H!” Louis grabs his face between his hands and peppers him with kisses, causing him to smile and lean into him.

“I’m nervous,” he admits. “Everything could change the second I empty my bladder on a stupid stick.”

“Do not call our little baby here stupid! She is more than just a stick, Harry,” Louis snatches the bag out of his hand and hurries to pull the box out, holding it up to the sky. “She is the personification of… the circle of life.”

Harry gives his signature unimpressed glare. “Are you reenacting _The Lion King_ , right now? With a pregnancy test?”

“She has feelings!”

Harry grabs the box back, “you’re ridiculous.”

He stares down at the box, unmoving.

“Well are you going to take it?” Louis speaks up.

“I will in the morning.”

“No no no, no,” Louis shakes his head, “you’re not doing this. You’re not going to put it off, take it right now.”

“It works better in the morning.”

“What is it, a dick? It is the morning.”

It’s past 12 o’clock, it’s technically the afternoon. Harry isn’t going to tell him that.

“Fine.”

Harry starts to walk through their bedroom to the bathroom, expecting to hear the pattering of Louis’ feet behind him. When he doesn’t, he walks back and pops his head out from the doorway.

“Are you going to come with me then, or leave me to piss on my own?”

Louis spurs into action, running across the room so quick his socks almost slide from under him. “Didn’t think you needed me to shake for you.”

“God, please shut up and sit on the counter.”

 

**. . .**

  
“You have horrible aim, you know that?”

They’re sitting together on the bathroom floor, tile cold beneath them and tests laying on the counter. Harry’s phone is on the floor between them, timer mocking them as it counts down much slower than normal.

“You’re the one who always pisses on the seat,” Harry quips back.

“You barely made it on the stick!"

“It’s _small._ ”

“So is your dick, I don’t see what the problem was,” Louis lets his head fall against the wall as he looks up to the ceiling.

Harry turns his head to him, “is that why whenever I top I have to wait until I’m practically soft again for you to get comfortable?”

“That doesn’t happen. You’re not even good, don’t let your ego get too big.”

Harry arches his back for dramatic effect, raising his voice a few octaves, adding a breathy tone to it, “‘Oh, Harry, fuck you’re so big, just, give me a second, _Oh_ _—_ ’”

Louis’ hand flies to cover his mouth before he can finish, “Okay, you’re done.” 

He licks Louis’ hand to make him remove it, but all Louis does is smear Harry’s own spit over his face.

The timer beeps, startling them both.

They’re silent for a second, staring at each other with wide eyes. Louis speaks first.

“Do something!”

“You do it!”

Louis rolls his eyes and pushes himself up to his feet. He walks in front of the counter and takes the test carefully in his hands. He looks back and forth between the back of the box and the tests.

“H…”

Harry’s head is in his hand, voice muffled. “Just say it.”

“It’s negative, I…”

Harry looks up, brows furrowed. “What?”

“It’s… wow.”

“Wow,” Harry repeats, “yeah. Wow.”

Harry sighs and looks down at the tile. He was nervous, yes. He was scared, yes. But was he desperately hoping it would be positive? Yes.

“Do you know what this means?” Louis looks to him with wide eyes.

“That I’ve let my entire bloodline down because I can’t even do the thing we’re on this planet for right?”

“No, but good point,” Louis rolls his eyes and crouches down to Harry’s level. “We’re about to fuck like motherfucking rabbits.”

 

**. . .**

 And like motherfucking rabbits do they fuck. They have sex everywhere for the next month; the bed, the shower, the counter when they get out of the shower, the wall by the front door, the wall by the back door, the back door, the flat balcony in the middle of the night, the kitchen in the morning. They’re exhausted by the end of the month. Not even when they were in university did they get it up this much.

**. . .**

 

“Do you think it’s working?”

“I don’t know, how would I even know that?”

Louis is beginning to go soft while buried balls deep inside of Harry, holding Harry’s legs straight up in the air. Harry’s on his back, bent in an awkward angle with a pillow under his hips and he’s staring up at Louis.

“You’re the OB/GYN, you’re supposed to know these things.”

“I know the logistics of it, not if it’s… marinating as we speak.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, “ _Marinating?_ Am I a steak soaking up flavor now?”

“If by flavor you mean my come then like, yeah. And don’t give me that look, you know what I mean.”

Harry shakes his head and picks at the pink nail polish on his nails to pass time.

“That was good sex, by the way, great endurance.”

“Thank you,” Louis smiles down at him.

“I really loved the way you did that thing.”

“With your hips?”

“Yeah, that was new, felt really good.”

“Well thank you, H."

Harry holds up his fist. Louis gathers both of his legs in one arm and fists bumps him.

“Good job, team.”

Harry squeezes around Louis’ dick, causing him to moan. He presses his fingers into his legs as a warning.

“Don’t, ‘m sensitive.”

“Wanna go again?”

“Harry, I’m almost 30.”

“You fuck me like you’re 19 though, that’s good.”

Louis gives a hard thrust of his hips that make Harry’s jaw fall open and his hand shoot to Louis’  lower stomach. He winces at the sensitivity but can’t deny the jerk his cock gives.

“You’re getting hard again,” Harry whispers, propping himself up on his elbows.

“You’re beautiful and keep tightening around my cock do you really blame me?”

“Thought you were almost 30?”

Louis lets Harry’s legs fall around him and leans forward, hand cupping his jaw and kisses him deeply. He starts to give small thrusts as the kiss turns messier, Harry starting to harden again, too.

“Gonna fuck you like I’m 19 though,” he laughs against his lips.

“Don’t know if your almost-30 stamina can fuck me like you’re 19 twice in a row. Might be fucking me like you’re 38, that stuff could be compounded.”

Louis fondly rolls his eyes and balances himself with a hand on the headboard as he starts to thrust into Harry with purpose to effectively shut him up.

 

**. . .**

 

They leave for work at the same time every morning after breakfast, it’s a routine. They take the elevator together and walk to their cars as they talk nonsense. Louis is usually grumpier, but Harry thinks trying for a baby has been making _him_ glow.

It’s probably all of the sex. Or maybe he’s the one who’s pregnant. Harry means it as a joke at first, but then he considers it. 

“Hey,” Harry cuts off whatever it was Louis was rambling on about.

“Yeah?”

“You’re not pregnant are you?”

Louis chokes out a laugh that echoes through the parking garage.

“I’m not a carrier, you know that. It’s impossible, plus, it’s been decades since you topped, remember?”

“ _Why_ do you keep bringing that up? Do you want me to top more and this is your way of saying it?”

“I’m perfectly happy topping, H.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Harry gently bumps his shoulder against Louis’ as they walk past rows of cars.

“I mean,” Louis shrugs, “I get that fill when I jerk off, so I’m not really missing anything, you know? It’s not a—”

“You finger yourself when you jerk off?” Harry asks incredulously, “Hold on, you _jerk off_?”

Louis hadn’t noticed Harry stopped walking. He stops as well and turns.

“I’m a gay man, of course I finger—”

“When do you even have _time_ to masturbate? We’ve been fucking nonstop!”

“I never said _recently_ —”

“I just thought you didn’t like bottoming,” Harry exclaims, rather loudly.

“Would you please lower your voice, Jesus Christ, go on and tell the entire building about our sex life why don’t you?” Louis whisper-yells.

“Sorry,” Harry whispers harshly back, “just found out I haven’t been fulfilling my boyfriend’s sex needs. And I mean fulfilling quite literally.”

They start walking again, Louis waiting for Harry to catch up before joining him.

They walk in comfortable silence until they reach their cars, which are parked next to each other.

“Why can’t you ever park straight,” Harry asks.

Louis puts his lunch on the top of the car and smiles over to Harry.

“Actually,” Harry cuts him off as he opens his own car door, “don’t answer that.”

“Love you,” Louis calls out.

“Love you too, have a good day.”

“You too, I’ll call you.”

Louis gets in his car as Harry slams his own door shut.

When they go to leave, like every morning, Louis pulls out in a rush to purposely get in front of Harry to piss him off by going too slow. Like every morning, Harry obnoxiously honks his horn to the beat of _We Will Rock You_.

**. . .**

 

“Good morning, Oliver,” Louis chirps as he walks into the lobby of his work office.

He’s been working as an OB/GYN since he got out of university, five years ago. He has been lucky enough to recently open his own local practice with the best team he could ask for 

“Morning Tomlinson,” Oliver, one of his receptionists, greets. “How’s the husband?”

“Still my kinda-fiance, same as yesterday. How’s the wife?”

“Still single, but thank you.”

He punches in the code to the staff door that leads into the kitchen with one hand, a skill he’s quite proud of mastering. He drops his lunch off in the staff refrigerator and disappears into the staff locker rooms where he quickly changes into his scrubs. When he comes back out, he goes through the routine of making his tea.

“Why is the news on?” he calls out.

Perrie, his first assistant, rounds the corner into the room in bright pink scrubs with a clipboard in her arms. “Contrary to belief, other people do watch the news.”

“They repeat the same stories three times in one hour, that’s not really _new,_ is it?”

“We go over this every morning,” Perrie sets the clipboard on the table and refills her water bottle.

“What’s the day looking like?”

“Uhh,” she squints up at the wall, trying to visualize the excel sheet in her head. “I believe you have an appointment in thirty minutes, followed by a break until eleven, and then back-to-backs until four-ish.”

“Anything major that’ll cause my hair to turn greyer at a rate faster than it is already?”

“Nah. Just a routine health exam for a new patient, a check up on Alissa Kates—the one who’s about to pop any second now—and yet another test was requested for Colton Holmes.”

“Another one?”

Perrie hums in response as she sits at the table and reaches for a banana out of the fruit bowl in the center.

“I’ve seen him twice a month for the past four months,” Louis recollects out loud.

“That’s correct,” she mumbles around her banana.

“Is it another pregnancy test request?”

“Mhmm, his ovulation one was three weeks ago, ‘member?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis strokes at the stubble on his cheek with creased brows.

“Maybe he’s infertile?”

Louis’ fingers halt on his cheek as his eyes flicker to her. “Why would you say that?”

Perrie swallows before talking, “I mean, he’s been trying to get pregnant for at least six months now. I don’t think it’s their sex, it should’ve happened already. A bit long to keep waiting for results, is all. Think it might be a bigger issue.”

“How,” Louis clears his throat, “how common is infertility in men?”

Perrie shrugs, “Carriers or in general? Also, shouldn’t you know this, you’re like… the doctor.”

“I… forgot. Most of my patients are women and we rarely have cases of infertility in the office.”

“Sure,” Perrie gets up and throws her banana peel into the trashcan. “I don’t know, something like 45 percent?”

“In carriers?”

“Mmm, it’s far more difficult for men to get pregnant than women, you knew this, least I thought you did, but there’s also more chance of infertility issues and complications to take into account.”

“Huh, I hope that’s not it. I can’t… fuck, I couldn’t imagine.”

Perrie grabs her clipboard, “For Colton? Yeah, neither could I, given how hard he’s been trying. Want me to put him down for a fertility test?”

“Um,” Louis gets up, wiping his sweaty palms on the front of his thighs. He’s already mentally checked out, brain on overdrive, so he thinks he heard what she said. “Yeah, why not.”

 

 **. . .**  

 

“Harry, Sugar, there you are!”

“Hi Elsa,” Harry walks through the leaves of a low-hanging tree and greets the elderly woman, bending down to give her a hug.

“Aren’t you just a gentleman?” She playfully swats at his arm as they hug.

“How have you been?”

“Oh, don’t act like it’s been foreva. It’s only been a week,” she dismisses.

“A week that I’ve spent missing you. The garden misses their Grandma!”

Harry smiles sweetly at the older woman. She’s one of the nicest employees he has, genuine and caring for the plants in the garden. She treats them as if they’re her own grandchildren.

Harry graduated university with a degree in botany and environmental science, not that it comes as a shock to anyone. A year ago, he opened his own garden with an array of plants, mixed with a hipster-esque aesthetic for the general public to enjoy. It doubles as a research facility funded by a local university, too. It’s become a hotspot for local photographers, particularly university photography students. Inarguably the most photographed spot on the property is the sign when you enter in that reads:

 **Styles Botanical Garden: A Sight You Just Won’t Be-Leaf**  

The garden is so spacious and open, flooding with natural sunlight and a variety of greens, that sometimes it feels like he’s in the wild. It’s his home away from home. He loves everything about it, from planting new plants and jotting down their growths, to coming home smelling like dirt and fresh cut grass.

Elsa is the plant’s nurser, as Harry calls her. She cares for the plants day in, day out, constantly checking their soil, sunlight exposure and growth. She’s been here since it opened, and Harry doesn’t know if he could run it without her help.

Later in the day he runs into both Elsa and his mate Niall sitting on a bench under an oak tree. He plops down on the fresh cut grass in front of them.

“Hi there, Sugar,” Elsa smiles at him. “I was just talking to Niall here about you.”

“Hey Ni,” Harry nods towards him.

“She was tellin’ me about the fun you’ve been getting into lately.” He wiggles his eyebrows and smirks.

“Elsa, you weren’t supposed to tell anyone!”

“Oh, it’s just so exciting! I had to.”

“How’s it coming along? It’s been how long?”

“Two months. Still nothing.”

“It’ll happen, I keep telling him.” Elsa tells Niall, motioning to Harry.

Niall nods in agreement.

“It’s harder than I thought it would be,” Harry rolls his eyes when Niall snorts.

“Yeah, mate, bet it is much harder.”

Elsa swats at Niall playfully, “now you stop that, crude, crude boy.”

“I think I’m too old to get pregnant at this point.”

“Nonsense,” Elsa exclaims defensively, “you’re barely twenty-six. You’re ripe as I don’t know what.”

“I just,” he picks and pulls at the grass mindlessly, “what if it’s not the right timing, you know? Or what if it isn’t in Louis and I’s favor? Like, not meant to be?”

“It’s always the right timing to bring a bundle of joy into this world, Sugar.”

“But what if—”

“Now you best be stopping with the ‘what-if’s’, that’s not gon’ do you no good. Gotta be positive.”

“Everything about me is being positive about this, Els.”

“Except the tests,” Niall peeps up.

Harry sighs heavily and goes to stand up, “I’d rather not think about it, I think. It’s putting me under too much pressure.”

“Hey, at least you’re having the best sex of your life!” Niall cheers.

“Don’t listen to him, Sugar. It’s gonna happen, I promise. Give it time, it’ll work out for you two. It always has, had’n’it?”

“Suppose so.”

 

 **. . .**  


It’s Friday and they’re out at a pub with their friends and everything is wrong. They’re crowded into a booth with glasses of beer knocking against each other. There’s the loud pub murmur going on around them, yet it feels like they’re not there. They’re both disconnected from their surroundings, from each other.

Their friends are laughing and joking amongst each other, but Louis is idly tracing the droplets falling from the condensation on his glass while Harry is picking apart a napkin. The tension is noticeable. Thank God they have good enough friends not to call them out on it, though.

Harry’s lost in his own thoughts, replaying the conversation with Elsa on loop. What if the timing isn’t right? Everything happens for a reason, right? What if none of this is supposed to happen, what if children just aren’t in their future? What if they missed their chance? What if—

Louis’ hand squeezes his thigh above his knee. Harry jumps at the contact, surprised Louis is acknowledging him.

“Yeah?” he mumbles.

Louis shakes his head and motions for Harry to lean in. He follows easily.

“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay?” Louis whispers against his ear.

“Yeah,” Harry whispers back, cheek pressing against Louis’. “You?”

Louis away to make eye contact and nods. The affirmation is missing in his eyes, but Harry doesn’t read too far into it because before he knows it he’s lost in his own thoughts again.

Harry watches Louis out of the corner of his eye. He sees the furrow of his brows, the tension in his shoulders. He sees he’s trying too hard to focus on the glass, but knows that’s not where his mind is at. He turns his head a bit more to get a better look and sees he’s steadily gnawing on his cheek. He watches as Louis takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, begins to bounce his leg, almost as if he’s about to—

He shoots open his eyes and clears his throat. Without looking up, his hand shoots out to tap on Harry’s bicep with two fingers. Harry looks at him in worry, waiting for him to say something. Louis is motioning to him, hands shaking, but Harry doesn’t pick up on it. And apparently, that’s a wrong move on his part.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Harry!” Louis snaps, “just let me out of the God damn booth!”

Their friends turn to them and fall silent. Louis’ cheeks turn bright red and he chews on his cheek harder, lips in a firm line. He finally looks up at Harry from where his eyes had been trained on his bicep and Harry’s breath catches in his throat. Louis’ eyes are rimmed red, beginning to glass over.

“Harry,” his voice cracks and Harry’s heart clenches at that, “please.”

Harry gets up as fast as he can, about to privately ask him what’s wrong, but before he can Louis is pulling out of his grasp and making a run for the toilets.

He stands there dumbfounded, the eyes of their friend group burning through him. He offers them a simple shrug in reply to show them he doesn’t know what the fuck that was about either.

“Are,” Niall speaks up, “are you guys alright, mate?”

“Yeah!” Harry jumps to say with too much enthusiasm, “yeah. I mean—yeah, we’re fine. I don’t… I’m gonna,” he points over his shoulder to the toilets.

“That would be a good idea,” Perrie speaks up.

“You guys don’t have to stay, if everything’s like, not okay, y’know, we wouldn’t be like… mad, or anything,” Liam, their mutual friend, adds.

Harry nods as he begins to walk away.

When Harry pushes through the door, the first thing he sees is Louis. He’s leaning against the wall near the sinks, arms crossed over his chest and head hung in defeat. He rushes to cross the room as quick as he can, thanking any God that’s listening that there’s nobody in any of the stalls.

“Hey,” he whispers as he approaches, reaching out to put his hands on the outside of his elbows, “sunshine, hey.”

Louis sniffles and lifts his head. There’s tears coming in a nonstop flow down his cheeks, eyes swollen and red. There’s snot coming from his nose that he keeps having to sniffle to save. His cheeks are blotchy yet pale at the same time, lips bitten raw. Harry’s chest can’t tighten anymore seeing him like this.

“What—”

At that word, Louis breaks down all over again. He lets out a sob and hunches forward into Harry’s chest, hand coming out to clutch his shirt in his hands. Harry immediately wraps him up in his arms and holds him as tight as he can, gently swaying back and forth and whispering sweet nothings.

Louis tries to speak but can’t get audible words out between his hiccups, blubbering as his chest jerks with each hiccup.

“Slow down, hey, it’s okay, there’s no rush, it’s alright, breathe,” Harry reminds him softly.

Louis’ hiccups get closer together, beginning to hyperventilate.

“Louis,” Harry says, dipping into his serious tone, “you need to breathe, c’mon, look at me. In and out, okay? Breathe with me, ready?”

They breathe together a few times to get Louis under control, reducing to quiet sniffles and a hiccup coming every few breaths.

“Okay?”

Louis nods and wipes his nose on Harry’s shirt.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong, baby?”

For a second, Harry thinks that was the wrong thing to say. Louis’ lip trembles again and he looks like he’s about to start sobbing again. Harry runs his hands up and down his arms to encourage him, to calm him, to ground him.

“I,” Louis rasps, “am so scared.”

That… he wasn’t expecting that.

“Scared? About what, Lou? I’m right here, there’s nothing to be scared of, it’s okay.”

“No, I’m,” he takes a ragged breath, “I’m… I don’t want to talk about it right now, please, just—”

“Okay, okay,” Harry hushes him gently, “it’s okay, we don’t have to right now. We can go home, yeah?”

Louis nods against his chest, “please.”

“Here,” Harry fishes his car key out of his front jean pocket and gives them to him, “go wait in the car, okay? Put the heat on, some music, while I close the tab and tell everyone we have to leave. Is that okay?”

Louis nods weakly.

“I need your words, baby, if it’s not okay I’ll come with you.”

“It’s okay, it’s great, thank you. I…” his voice cracks, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Harry kisses his temple, “I’ll be right there okay?”

He guides him to the door and watches him get out of the pub safely before he goes back to the booth to tell his friends they’re leaving early.

  
**. . .**

 

It’s the next morning and Louis is still wrapped up in their blankets on the bed while Harry comes in through the door with muffins from the bakery he knows Louis loves.

“Lou,” he sing-songs as he approaches the bedroom, “I’ve got your favorite choco-muffins.”

Louis is completely hidden under the blankets. He lets out a quiet, half-assed, “yay.”

“Oh c’mon, they're choco-muffins! Remember the song we used to sing, choco-choco-muffins, never be huffin’ ‘n’ puffin’ when you got your hands on a choco-choco-muffin.”

His singing draws a laugh out of the lump of blankets on the bed. He sits on the bed in front of Louis’ body, holding the box of muffins out.

“They’re not gonna eat themselves,” he sings.

Louis takes the blanket off of him slowly and looks at the muffins. He looks up at Harry, then back to the muffins. He reaches out and takes the entire box, lays back down and puts the blanket back over him.

“Thank you.”

Harry laughs and takes the blanket off to see Louis already biting into a muffin.

“Are we going to…?”

“No,” he murmurs, muffin crumbs falling out of his mouth. “We aren’t.”

“Louis…”

Louis shoots him a warning glare as he takes another bite.

“Is it work?”

Louis shakes his head.

“Your family?”

Louis shakes his head again.

“Is it… me?”

Louis looks up at him and shrugs.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Louis is quick to shake his head.

“Is it about not being pregnant?”

“That’s enough,” Louis sits up fast, shoving the box of muffins toward Harry.

Harry catches his arm before he can get up and keeps him down. “We’re talking about this, Lou.”

“You and your _talking_ ,” he huffs.

“Listen,” Harry sighs, “I…what if it just isn’t the right time?”

Louis looks at him like he’s grown another head. That was the furthest from Louis’ own thoughts, but of course Harry would be worried about something like that.

“Let me finish,” he cuts him off before Louis can interrupt. “Everything happens for a reason, right? So what if it just isn’t meant to be, what if it just isn’t or time, or what if there isn’t a time for us, what if—”

“Harry,” Louis interrupts his rambling softly. “That is the furthest of my worries. I have no doubt in my mind, or the universe for that matter, that we’re meant to be. That this family is meant to be, okay? It’s in the cards for us, deep down you know that.”

Harry closes his eyes and nods, “right, right, I do, sorry I’m just… being silly.”

“You’re not, God, baby you aren’t, it’s okay to think that.”

“Now I’m crying, great! This was supposed to be about you crying, why do I always end up crying?”

“‘Cause you’re a pussy ass bitch, H? Or maybe, I don’t know, you have emotions because you’re a human being.

Harry sniffles and smiles at him, “I think it’s the first one.”

Louis smiles back and wipes his tears with his thumbs.

“Why’d you break down like that, Lou? You’re not one to, well, do that.”

“Geez, I’m a human too!"

“You mean pussy ass bitch?”

“Yeah,” Louis rolls his eyes, “same thing.”

Harry reaches for a muffin and waits for Louis’ answer.

“I don’t want to scare you,” Louis admits softly.

Harry’s eyebrows turn in and he tilts his head.

“There’s a patient at the office,” he starts with a deep breath, “who turned out to be infertile this week.”

“Mmm’kay,” Harry moans around the muffin, “and? Are they okay? I heard that’s quite emotional.”

“He… yeah, it is. He’s doing okay. They’d been trying to get pregnant for over half a year, and it just got me thinking,” Louis’ eyes start to water.

“Thinking…?”

His lip trembles as he looks up to Harry. Harry makes eye contact and Louis watches it click in his head.

“No.”

“H…”

“No,” Harry puts the muffin down and wipes his mouth on the back of his palm, “absolutely not.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“Why would you even think about something that stupid, Louis!”

“It’s a possibility!”

“A rare one,” Harry stands to full height and rubs the back of his neck.

“It’s actually pretty common among male carriers, on top of it being harder to conceive in the first place.”

“Do you hear yourself right now?”

Louis stands up, too. “I think I’ve heard myself for the past two weeks that it’s been on loop in my head, Harry.”

Harry breathes hard and looks him up and down. “Maybe your sperm is just fucking _untalented_ , have you ever thought about that?”

“Don’t bring my sperm into this, what the fuck? They’re swimming just fine!”

Harry stomps out of the bedroom, shouting as he goes throughout the flat.  “Can they even swim when they’re thirty, or do their joints crack, too?”

“I’m not even thirty yet, so neither are they, and they don’t even have joints!” Louis shouts back, veins in his neck popping out and face tinting red.

“Fuck, you’re so infuriating!”

“Where are you going?” Louis shouts as he walks into the living room and sees Harry sliding on his Vans and reaching for his keys.

“To the garden, to have some peace and fucking quiet from you!”

“Good,” Louis crosses his arms, “maybe they’ll teach you how to photosynthesize a baby up.”

“Photosynthesis is the process of making glucose, you spermless… sperm whale.”

“If I was spermless I wouldn’t be a sperm whale, nice try.”

“Sperm whales aren’t named because of their semen,” Harry opens the front door and turns back to face him, “I’m saying you have a big head.”

Harry slams the door behind him and Louis lets out a frustrated groan.

The door slams back open and Harry pops his head in, looking pissed off.

“I love you,” he grumbles.

“I love you too,” Louis grits through his teeth.

Harry slams the door again, this time louder.

 

**. . .**

 

“You know,” Elsa says as she examines the leaves of a plant in the herbal section of the gardens. “You get yourself into trouble, then you spend the rest of your day moping over a trouble you created.”

“I am not moping.”

“You’ve watered the same plant three times now, Sugar, you gon’ kill it. That plant is not to blame.”

“Are you saying I should kill myself instead, Elsa?”

“That’s nonsense and you know better, never say that again. I’m sayin’ you need to squash what’s botherin’ you instead of hurtin’ others.”

Harry gives her a blank stare.

“Communicate with him, for the love of God,” she throws her hands in the air. “You’re always goin’ on about how Louis don’t talk to you, but you ain’t doin’ the talkin’ either!”

Harry looks down at his feet in guilt.

“See and you know it, too. Relationships are two way streets, Sugar. If you’re tryin’ to go one way down a double laned road you’re either gon’ get run over or passed by.”

“I try to talk to him, he—”

“Ain’t that a bunch of garbage,” she laughs dryly. “You don’t, Sugar, you don’t. You try to initiate him to talk to you, then you don’t open up. You can’t expect him to get it no matter how long you’ve been together.”

Harry nods and idly picks at a plant. “I tried to talk to him this morning, I opened up.”

“Callin’ him a sperm whale and stormin’ out like a toddler throwin’ a hissy fit ain’t talkin’ to him.”

Harry snorts and she laughs along with him.

“I will,” he promises. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Good. That’s all it is, Sugar. Now get outta my gardens, you’re not even ‘pposed to be here.”

Elsa shoos him away and he walks to his car feeling lighter.

 

 **. . .**  


They don’t talk when Harry gets back home. Louis won’t even look at him, more less. He’s intently staring at the T.V. in the living room, perched on the edge of the couch playing FIFA.

Harry toes off his shoes and throws his keys into their glass bowl next to the front door. He heads into the kitchen and opens the fridge, pulling out a can of soda.

He drinks it in front of the sink and stares into the living room at Louis, hoping at least for an acknowledgement.

Harry clears his throat and burps.

Louis looks at him out of the corner of his eye, debates saying a sarcastic remark, and turns his attention back to the T.V.

Harry clears his throat again. Then again, and again, this time more obnoxious and drawn out.

“I hope you’re warming your vocal chords up for an apology,” Louis finally says.

“Why would I apologize?”

“Oh I don’t know,” Louis sets the controller down on the glass table, “for calling me a whale?”

“I’m sorry I called you a sperm whale,” he admits. “It won’t happen again.”

“And?”

“I’m sorry for implying your head is big.”

“Thank you. I accept your apology, but you’re an asshole and I hate you.”

Louis picks the controller back up and resumes his game.

“Will you schedule a test?”

Louis’ head whips to him.

“I… I want the tests done, but I want you to do them. I trust you, so, could you work that out with your office?”

“Tests for…?”

“Infertility.” Harry is looking down at the floor, playing with the tab on his soda can. “You know the times I’m available.”

With that, he puts his can down and heads into their bedroom where he locks himself in the bathroom to ignore any questions from Louis.

 

**. . .**

 

Louis had to give his hamster to the pet store when he was seven years old because she had gotten pregnant, and his parents couldn’t afford to take care of nine hamsters. He was heartbroken and thought he was going to die from crying so much. It was the first time Louis recalls feeling immense emotional pain and loss, and at the time, it was the hardest thing to overcome.

Sitting in his office right now, he confirms he would rather relive that experience everyday for two months straight than feel the way he’s feeling right now.

Harry’s going to be in the office any second. Louis is going to have to perform tests on him, look over the tests and break the news to him. Breaking news to patients is emotionally draining enough. Now, he has to break the news to both Harry and himself. He can’t explain it.

His body is thumping with a stable level of anxiety, his fingers feel cold and he feels slightly disassociated. He had Perrie reschedule his other appointments for the day, incase something were to go wrong.

“Louis,” Perrie pops her head in. “Harry’s ready for you in exam room four.”

Louis stands up and takes a deep breath, grabbing the clipboard from her hands.

“It’ll be okay,” Perrie whispers. “I can always take over if it’s too much.”

“No,” Louis shakes his head, “I have to do this, thank you though. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

 

**. . .**

 

“Jesus, you always look so edible in your scrubs.”

Harry is in the exam chair, looking relaxed as ever with his head back when Louis walks in. To Louis, though, he can feel the tension radiating off his muscles. Good, he’s just as scared as Louis is.

“Edible?”

“They’re much tighter than they should be,” Harry rolls his lip between his fingers, “aren’t they supposed to be loose?”

“Yeah, well,” Louis sits on the stool next to him, “I like them tighter.”

“What are we going to do, Doctor Tomlinson?”

“God,” Louis glances up at the ceiling, “don’t call me that.”

“Am I going to have to spread my legs for you? ‘Cause if we’re being honest, I’m a little lazy.”

Louis laughs, “No, nothing like that. Only if there’s something we’d have to do more extensive tests for.”

“Okay,” Harry relaxes his shoulders a bit more.

“I’m just going to ask you some questions, answer honestly. If not, I already know the answers, so you can’t try anything on me. Unfortunately, it’s protocol and I have to.”

“I love 21 questions, are you going to ask if I’m a virgin?”

Louis rolls his eyes and asks him the standard medical history questions. They blow through it fast, Harry answering ‘no’ before he’s done reading the questions.

“Great, now uh, how often do you have sex?”

Harry smiles at him, “a lot.”

“Rough estimate, please?”

“Including the times I top? Or just getting fucked?”

Louis takes a deep breath, “in total. Plus, I have a feeling you bottom more than you top.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Seriously, Lou, if you want me to fuck you more you just have to ask instead of—”

“Are you, or have you been, on birth control? If yes, how long?”

“Not anymore, and you know.”

“Any STDs or STIs? If this is how you’re going to tell me you better think it out carefully.”

Harry laughs, “No, Lou. Only you.”

“Music to my ears,” he jots it down quickly and glances back up at Harry. “Do you experience any problems during sexual intercourse?”

“Like my boyfriend secretly wanting to be fucked more and making me think I’m not satisfying him? Yes. Pain during sex? No, it’s pretty good. His cock is small enough that there’s no pain.”

Louis squints at him.

“Have you been pregnant before?”

“If I have do you think I’d be here right now requesting an infertility exam?”

“Sorry, I had to,” he checks the ‘no’ box quietly and finishes the round of thorough questions.

“Okay,” Louis stands up and clasps his hands together, “we’re going to do some blood tests on you, and I’m going to do a semen test.”

“While I’m getting stuck with a needle you’re going to be jerking off? Really?”

“Sorry, babe, but we have to make sure everything’s good on both sides.”

“Why wouldn’t you be good?”

“I’m reaching thirty, remember? I believe, how did you put it, their joints crack, too?”

“I didn’t mean it,” he admits softly.

“I know, love,” Louis puts his hands on Harry’s knees and stands in front of him with his clipboard under his arms.

“I’m scared,” Harry whispers.

“I know, I am too. It’s all going to be fine, yeah? I’m going to love you, regardless.”

“Promise?”

“Always, H.”

“Even if I can’t give you what you want?” His eyes are welling up with tears, voice becoming shaky.

“Oh baby, no, of course, always. If there’s anything wrong, we’re going to work it out, okay? It’s… going to be okay, I’ll always love you.” 

Harry reaches out for Louis and Louis wraps his arms around him easily.

“I love you, too, even if your sperm turn out to be untalented.”

“Thank you,” Louis laughs against his hair, “that means a lot to them.”

Louis kisses his hair and pulls away to look at him.

“I’ll be okay, Harry,” he reassures. He leans in and kisses him, “we’re going to have a baby, okay?”

Harry nods and kisses him again.

“Now go jerk off to me,” Harry pushes on his stomach to push him away. He holds his finger up accusedly, “don’t you dare pick up one of those Playboy magazines.”

Louis cackles loudly as he walks out of the room.  


**. . .**

 

He can’t come. He’s hard and he’s been going at it for at least 15 minutes now, but he can’t bring himself to finish. Every time he gets to the point he thinks he’s going to, he catches sight of the women on the magazines in front of him and it pulls him out of his fantasy. He’s also nervous about being too loud as he comes, knows he can’t control that, and would rather everyone he works with not know how he sounds mid-orgasm.

He tucks his hardness into the waistband of his scrubs and stands up, placing the cup on the sink in the exam room. He walks out after putting his hand under the hands-free hand sanitizer dispenser.

He knocks on the door of exam room four. When the nurse inside, Luke, murmurs to come in, he pushes open the door with a look of pain clouding his face.

“Tomlinson, nice of you to join us, I was just finishing up Harry’s blood work.”

“Can I um,” he fidgets in the doorway, “could I possibly borrow him? For a quick sec, if you guys are done?”

“Is everything okay, Lou?”

“Yeah, baby, everything’s fine I just,” he trails off and tries to tell Harry what’s wrong through his eyes.

“You look flushed,” Harry points out, Luke agreeing. “And you’re—oh. Oh! _Oh_ ,” Harry starts laughing.

“Harry.”

Luke catches on, albeit delayed.

“Tomlinson,” Luke says with an eyebrow raised, “are you having trouble with your semen sample? Is that what this is?”

“Do you really have to say it like that?”

Harry is still laughing.

“This is,” Luke stands up and puts the vials of blood into a basket, throwing away his trash as he makes his way past Louis in the doorway, “the highlight of the office this week. I can’t wait to tell Perrie, she’s going to have a right laugh at this.”

Louis puts his hands on his hips and breathes through his nose deeply.

“Sure,” Harry says as his laughter dies down, “I’ll do the honors of making the Doctor Louis Tomlinson come.”

“Did you have to shout that?” Louis whispers sharply as Harry approaches him.

“Why yes,” Harry pushes his palm against Louis’ cock. “Gotta let everyone know who’s about to make you come.”

 

**. . .**

 

“Thank you,” Louis breathes as he tucks himself back into his scrubs. “No really, thanks, pretty sure everyone in this damn building had to hear that.”

“Not my fault you need to work on voice control,” Harry replies, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“It’s the tongue thing,” he blames as he screws the lid on the clear jar.

“It gets you off fast, I had to do what I had to do.”

Louis holds up the jar and wrinkles his nose.

“I’m surprised you successfully shot into the jar, honestly.”

He looks at Harry with a smirk, “I’ve had practice.”

Harry bends down over the sink to look into the small mirror, wiping the corners of his mouth and fixing his hair.

“You sure you don’t need to get off? We have time since you only take a minute tops,” he gestures to his jeans.

“It’s okay,” Harry waves his hand in the air.

Louis moves to open the door but Harry’s hand stops him, soft on his elbow. Louis looks at him with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“How long do results take?”

“I’ll have to send them to the lab, so probably a day at minimum. I’ll put a rush notice on it, but, probably tomorrow morning,” he whispers softly.

Harry nods and opens the door for them.

 

**. . .**

They don’t speak much the rest of the day. There’s tension radiating off their bodies, anxiety filling the spaces between them. They don’t talk to each other but they communicate without words, and that’s why the silence is so comfortable. They know it’s okay not to speak about it, they know each other are both so lost in their own thoughts they can’t speak about it.

So when Harry stands in the bedroom doorway and asks Louis if he’s still up for movie night and Chinese take out, he’s a little shocked. He’s surprised Harry would still be up for their weekly rom-com night, given the circumstances.

“Yes,” he exclaims a little too enthusiastically, “of course, yeah. Let me just.”

“I’ll be on the couch, it’s your turn to order.”

Louis scrambles to gather pillows and blankets off of the bed and shuffle into the living room. He dumps them on top of harry, a silent cue for Harry to organize everything while he orders the food from the landline in the kitchen.

After the chinese food arrives, they’re cuddled up on the couch eating out of styrofoam boxes and just enjoying each other’s energy. Harry’s warm under Louis, his back pressed up against Harry’s stomach. Harry is on his back with his plate on his stomach, and Louis is using Harry’s stomach as a table as well. The true beauties of a relationship.

With every giggle that comes out of Harry, every jerk of his stomach that causes Louis to spill his noodles, Louis falls deeper in love.

 

**. . .**

It’s Sunday morning and the smell of bacon isn’t in the air. It’s almost ten in the morning and they’re still in bed. They’re spooning, Louis’ arm wrapped around Harry’s middle and his curls getting caught in Louis’ mouth.

“You smell bad,” Louis mumbles, voice scratchy.

“So does your breath.”

“Mm, lovely. Dream team, we are.”

“Today’s the day,” Harry whispers.

“It is,” Louis leans over and kisses his cheek, “and regardless of the results, I’ll still love you the exact same.”

Harry turns his head to kiss him on the lips, which he eagerly returns the action.

“Yeah?”

“Yep,” Louis kisses the tip of his nose, “if it’s bad news? We work through it, ‘cause that’s what we always do. If it’s good news? Well, we fuck a lot more.”

Harry lets out an unexpected laugh and turns his head away from him. Louis takes the invitation and leaves a trail of lazy, slobbery kisses down his neck. He blows raspberries into his neck and tickles at his sides, basking in the warmth of his giggle.

“Lou, stop it, stop—ah,” he trails off into a fit of laughter, stray tears running out of the outer corner of his eye.

Louis blows another raspberry into the junction of his neck and collarbone and pats on his stomach. “Go shower now.”

Harry catches his breath and wipes his eyes. “Wanna join?”

“‘M gonna go call the lab, actually. See if everything is okay and what not, coming along smoothly, yadda yadda. I’ll join if you stay in there long enough, though? Thorough ‘Rejuvenation Sunday’ and all that?” Louis winks as he pushes himself out of the bed.

“Mmm, ‘kay,” Harry stretches as he walks into the en-suite. “Don’t wanna waste water, though, so hurry up.”

 

**. . .**

“Hey,” Louis exclaims, rather loudly and far too faux-enthusiastically, into the phone in the kitchen. “My name is Doctor Louis Tomlinson, I had requested a few lab results to be marked as urgent and I was calling to see the status on those?”

“Hi Doctor Tomlinson, hope all is well. We did receive your request, the patient’s name is Harry Styles, correct?”

“That’s him.”

“Alrighty,” there’s some typing on the line as she pauses, “ah-ha, there we are. His results are ready to be faxed over.”

“Actually,” Louis speaks up, voice wavering just a bit, “he’s actually my fiance—or soon to be, whatever, is there any way you could tell me the results? Like, now? Over the phone?”

He’s met with a brief period of silence as he chews on his thumbnail.

“Is there anyway to verify as much, Doctor Tomlinson? Oh, wait, nevermind! It has your information down for the provided semen sample, okay, then yes! That is completely possible.”

“Okay. Could you…”

“Oh, right, yes! Well, you tested for infertility in both partners… and it looks like,” she pauses and there’s a loud click, “Congratulations, Doctor Tomlinson, you are both highly fertile.”

“Holy fuck,” Louis lets out with a breath of air, “that’s… holy fuck. That’s incredible, thank you so, so much…?”

“Clarke Holtz.”

“Thank you so much, Clarke! This is… wow.”

“I’m so happy for you two,” she smiles through the line. “Would you like a paper copy of your results sent to your office, Doctor?”

“That’d be great, yeah, please. Thank you so much again.”

“Anytime. Have a great day, and tell him my congratulations!”

“Will do, bye.”

He holds the phone to his chest and smiles up at the ceiling before hanging up. He practically runs towards the bedroom, adrenaline running through his veins.

He slams open the bathroom door, door banging against the wall and probably—most likely—leaving a doorknob shaped hole in the drywall.

Harry jumps in the shower, dropping the bottle he was holding.

“Louis? Jesus fuck, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Louis is beaming as he strips off his clothes. “Nothing is wrong at all.”

“You’re… scaring me?”

Louis practically jumps into the shower with him, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling Harry in him for a rough, passionate kiss. He kisses back and awkwardly wraps his arms around Louis. Sure, he’s confused, but he’s not about to look a gift horse in its mouth.

Louis pushes him back against the shower wall and kisses him with more urgency, fingers roaming through his wet hair.

Harry pulls back and looks down at him, holding him close. “What…?”

“We’re doing this,” Louis breathes, crinkles forming around his eyes, “we’re both fertile, baby, we’re doing this.”

“What?” Harry’s eyes widen, “Louis!”

“I know!”

Harry picks Louis up and squeezes him, turning so Louis is against the wall. “Are you playing with me right now?”

Louis is still smiling, and shakes his head. “I’m serious, just got off the phone with the lab.”

Harry looks like he’s about to cry and Louis can’t blame him.

“Don’t cry, baby, this is good!”

“I know that’s why I’m crying,” Harry dips down for another kiss. “I’m just so happy it’s overflowing through my eyes, I was so scared, you were so scared and…”

“I know, I know, none of that matters now, yeah? We’re back in the game, we’re going to do this.”

“Can I fuck you?”

Louis’ eyes widen. “Shouldn’t I be the one fucking you, you’re the one trying to get pregnant!”

“I’m just so happy I want to fuck you right now, I haven’t in over two months and I know you want it.”

Louis pops his hip and quirks his eyebrows, “how do you know that?”

Harry kisses him again, “you keep bringing it up and I can tell when my boyfriend is dropping hints.”

Louis leans back against the tile and looks up through his lashes, “that doesn’t mean I want you to top more.”

He kisses down Louis’ throat and runs his hands down his chest, “is that why you finger yourself, then?”

Harry sucks on that spot on his jaw and he practically goes limp in his hands. He struggles to bounce back with a sarcastic reply, but gets one out anyway. “You never know, ‘could be fingering myself because your dick is small and not enough.”

He smiles against his neck, “we both know that’s not true.”

“Oh, okay, big ego much?”

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

Louis debates it for a moment. “Yes.” He speaks up before Harry can cheer, “but. Just know it’s because this is celebratory sex in a moment of weakness. It’s not because I’m a bottom.”

“I think we’re both bottoms, Lou.”

"Yeah," Louis winces in agreement, reaching for the lube that’s next to the shampoo. Harry snatches it from his hands, insisting he’s ‘done too fingering himself lately’.

Harry wraps his arms around his waist and Louis lets his forehead fall against his shoulder. He works up to two fingers easily, and that has him raising his eyebrows at Louis.

“When’s the last time you did this, baby?”

Louis moans as a response.

“That wasn’t an answer.”

“God, do you ever shut up.”

Harry chuckles and continues to lazily pump his fingers into Louis. “Well?”

“A few nights ago,” Louis admits, pushing back against his fingers.

“How was it?”

“We aren’t really turning this into a yelp review are we?” Louis bites his lip and looks down, “it wasn’t the best, like your fingers much better.”

“Yeah?”

He nods against his chest, “Don’t make me say it again. Another.”

Harry gives him another and scissors his fingers, crooking them every now and then but never staying for long, just because he knows it riles Louis up.

Louis’ fingers are gripping onto Harry’s bicep. He refuses to become submissive to Harry, it’s always a struggle to get him to completely let go. Whenever he bottoms, he tries to hold onto his dominance as much as he can, but Harry is determined to change that.

“Turn around, baby,” Harry whispers, “gonna take you from behind.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Harry gives him an unimpressed look.

Louis groans and turns quick, sprawling his hands against the wet tile and arching his back. “Hurry up before I have to do it myself, again.”

Harry lands a sharp smack on his ass unexpectedly, causing Louis to moan loud and high pitched.

“Fuck you,” he grits.

“Not this time,” Harry smiles, slicking himself up and positioning behind him.

“I hate you,” he looks over his shoulder to make eye contact with him, “this is why I top. You talk much fucking less.”

“Like you don’t get off to my voice,” Harry chuckles as he rubs the head of his cock over Louis’ hole, closing his eyes to send a thank you to God himself.

He pushes in all at once. Louis’ head hangs between his shoulder blades as he chokes on a gasp. Harry’s fingers dig into his hips as he lets Louis adjust.

“Still small,” Louis grits in between two labored breaths.

“Really?”

“No,” he admits. “I just don’t want to inflate your ego any more, fuck.”

Harry gives an experimental slow thrust, slowly picking up as Louis leans back into him. He runs his hands down the curve of Louis’ back, grabbing his ass and resting it on the curve of his spine. He thrusts in harder this time, letting out a soft groan at how he feels around him.

“I swear you always sound like you’re the one getting fucked,” Louis laughs as he looks over his shoulder. Harry’s eyes are trained on where they’re connected, abs clenching with each thrust.

“Yeah,” Harry says, breathless, “you always feel so incredible.”

“If only it was as incredible for me,” he mumbles, smirking to himself when Harry fucks into him faster.

Louis is barely making any noise, only his breath coming out in soft pants. Harry is responsible for a majority of the moans echoing off the shower walls. Harry doesn’t like it.

His hips stop and before Louis can protest, his arms wrap around him as he slips out. He turns Louis in his arms and hauls him up to rest on top of his thighs. He holds him up with one arm as he guides himself back in with the other, pressing Louis into the wall.

“You could warn a guy,” Louis wraps his arms around his neck and tightens his legs, flattening his back against the wall. “Almost—ah,— set off a dizzy spell.”

Harry starts to fuck into him again, this time deeper and rougher. Louis finally lets out a squeak and tightens his fingers in the nape of Harry’s hair.

“C’mon, H,” he whispers, meeting his eyes with a challenge. “Give it to me. _Fuck_ me.”

Harry wraps one arm around his waist and his other firm against the tile wall as he leans down to kiss him deeply. Louis kisses back, opening up right away and moaning into his mouth. It’s not a loud moan, but it’s progress.

He alternates between shallow and deep thrusts, Louis’ head falling back to rest against the tile, eyes closed. He buries his head into his neck as he quickens his pace. He shifts the angle of his hips and that does it.

Louis’ arm shoots out and squeezes his bicep, letting out a filthy, high pitched moan of his name. His cock twitches against his stomach, pre-come coming in a steady stream. Harry watches his dominant persona crumble before his eyes.

“Harry,” he moans, turning his head into his shoulder.

“Like that?”

He nods and bites into his bottom lip, “harder, there, there, but harder, _oh_ _—_ ”

Harry is hitting his prostate head on, abs clenching with his own impending release. “Lou—”

“Please,” Louis puts his arm up, hand flat against the wall behind him, arching his back and beginning to give small bounces down onto Harry’s cock. “Don’t stop, make me come, baby.”

Harry groans, leaning down to mouth at his nipple. That has him clenching around his cock, causing Harry to momentarily see white.

“You fuck me so good,” Louis mumbles, “so big, fuck.”

Harry files that away for later as he holds him up with one hand again, other hand moving to wrap around Louis’ cock. “Close?”

Louis doesn’t answer, his mouth falling open and choking on a moan as he tenses up. He clenches around Harry, eyes rolling back as he shoots between them, coating Harry’s fist and their stomachs.

The sight alone has Harry burying himself as deep as he can as he shakes through his own release, biting on the skin above Louis’ collarbone.

He takes a few deep breaths and sets Louis down carefully.

“That,” Louis says, voice laced with awe, “wasn’t so bad.”

Harry huffs and rolls his eyes, “Thanks.”

Louis catches his breath and looks up at him, “Forgot to tell you.”

Harry steps under the water and raises his eyebrow, “Mm?”

“We need to get another broom,” Louis looks down at the come on his stomach and shuts his eyes. “The Swiffer WetJet broke and I’m just not feeling it anymore.”

“Oh? Thought you wanted it so bad though?”

“I did,” Louis joins him under the water, “but it just takes so long to do the entire flat. It’s easier to just sweep and mop.”

“Okay,” Harry kisses his temple.

“Plus, it’s expensive to keep up. You have to keep buying the pads and the fluid, when you could just be buying mopping soap?”

“Mopping soap?”

“Yes,” Louis lathers up their loofa and smirks at him, “and we’re going to need that extra money for baby diapers here soon.”

A smile breaks out on Harry’s face as he wraps his arms around Louis, peppering kisses all over his face.

 

 **. . .**  

It’s been a few weeks since they found out their fertility results and Harry’s not psyching himself out. He _isn’t_.

He realized fucking like bunnies on a sugar high clearly wasn’t doing anything to help them. Reproduction isn’t as easy as it looks. People accidentally getting pregnant must be a myth. There has to be a secret, a _technique_.

That’s why he’s called into his work asking Niall to take over for him the third day in a row this week. His nose has been buried in books, mommy blogs, articles, medical journals for fuck’s sake. He’s going to get to the bottom of this, damn it.

That’s how Louis walks in from work and finds him: sprawled on the living room floor, laptop atop his stomach as he scrolls through his hundredth mommy blog of the day with furrowed brows.

“Still at it, huh?” Louis asks as he toes off his shoes.

“Shut up,” Harry replies easily.

“Babe,” he makes his way to the kitchen to grab a beer and then joins Harry on the floor.

“Listen,” Harry takes a deep breath before he looks at him, “TripleThreatMama says it’s best to have sex in—"

“Haz,” Louis says gently, taking the laptop from his stomach and putting it on the coffee table. “Don’t worry about it so much, yeah? It’ll happen.”

“‘It’ll happen’,” Harry scoffs, “what are you, Aristotle?”

Louis laughs softly and swings his leg over to sit on his lap. Harry’s hands instinctively go to the tops of his thighs, rubbing up and down idely.

“I’m just saying,” Louis leans down and gives him a chaste peck, “let’s just fuck and see what happens.”

Harry squints his eyes.

Louis tilts his head.

“You’re just trying to get laid, oh my _God_ ,” Harry tries to sit up and push him off his lap.

Louis bursts out laughing and grabs his wrists, “I’m not!”

“You totally are, you pig!”

“I’m not, baby, I’m, _Harry_ ,” Louis pins his wrists to the floor and hovers over him. His words die in his throat when he sees Harry’s reaction, “stop.”

Harry falls limp in his grip and stares up at him with wide eyes. “Yeah, okay. Yeah.”

“You good?”

Harry nods.

Louis lets out a breath and smiles. “I just don’t want you getting yourself worked up over this. The ovulation period, now. I understand that and can help with that, ovulation tests and determining a fertile window and what not. But the rest is ridiculous.”

Harry nods again, hips squirming a little.

“What was it you said the other night?” Louis wonders, looking up at the ceiling. “Fuck, what was it? Have sex wearing red panties? Was that it?”

“It’s not like that, Lou—”

Louis raises an eyebrow. “What about sex in a tub? Do you really think the scenery when I come is going to be important?”

“No,” Harry sighs. “I just… want it so bad.”

“I know, I know.”

They both stare at each other for a beat.

“Are you gonna fuck me now?” Harry asks, biting his lip.

“Oh,” Louis looks down at their hips, not having realized Harry had been grinding against him during his speech. “No, God, no. Not right now.

Louis lets go of him and pushes himself up to his feet. Harry looks at him in offense.

“What do you mean God no? Is the thought really that bad? Why don’t you want to fuck me?!”

“I did, _fuck_ I really went into that with the aim to get laid, I know I said I didn’t, but I _totally_ did. But now you’re expecting it. That’s no fun.”

Harry stares at him in shock, cock straining against his pajama bottoms.

Louis shrugs and picks up Harry’s laptop. He balances it on one forearm and picks up his beer with the other.

“Take care of that yourself,” Louis calls out as he goes into their bedroom, “ _Stranger Things_ season 2 just came out."

 

**. . .**

“Can we fuck now?”

They’re on their balcony, sitting at the patio table passing a joint back and forth.

“No.”

“Louis, c’mon. It’s been a week since I’ve gotten dicked down.”

“Definitely not going to fuck a man who says dicked down.”

“ _Louis._ ”

Louis glances over at him as he blows smoke out of his mouth, “You’re not ovulating. I’m sorry.”

“Why do I have to be ovulating?!”

“You conducted extensive research for a week straight and you didn’t once come across the term or importance of the ovulation period?”

“I love how smart-sounding you get when you’re high.”

Louis raises an eyebrow and passes the joint to him.

“I did,” Harry takes a drag, “but I’m not trying to get pregnant right now, I’m trying to get fucked.”

Louis laughs so hard it sends him into a coughing fit.

“I’m saving my sperm.”

It’s Harry’s turn to laugh. He laughs the smoke out of his lungs as he effortlessly passes the joint back.

“You’re saving your sperm?”

“Yeah, haven’t wanked either. Completely bottled up. That way when you do start ovulating next week, I’m gonna fuck your shit right the fuck up.”

Harry laughs and throws his head back.

“I’m serious,” Louis waves his hand around, “I’m going to come so hard it’s going to pop the top of your skull out. It’s going to be crazy good. They’ll be so eager to get the fuck out of my balls that you’ll be pregnant in seconds. Bet.”

“Bet?”

“I bet. I bet I’ll get you pregnant next week.”

“Okay, bet.”

“How much? What are we even betting?”

“I don’t know,” Harry admits, “but I bet.”

“I’ll bet my pride and dignity.”

Harry puts a hand over his heart. “Aw, for me? Babe!”

Louis laughs and swats at his hand, “shut up.”

 

**. . .**

Louis wasn’t kidding. Harry spent the last week trying to get him to cave, but he refuses. He’s getting desperate here.

“I’m ovulating,” Harry says happily as he walks out of the bathroom.

Louis looks him up and down once. “No you’re not.”

“I am!”

“You’re not.”

“How would you know?”

“I’m literally an OB/GYN.”

Harry squints his eyes. “Everyone’s different.”

“Haz,” Louis warns. “Just give it another day, okay baby? Can you do that? Will you do that for Daddy?”

“That voice doesn’t work on me when I’m sexually frustrated and upset with you.”

Louis rolls his eyes and throws a pillow at him, “Go to work.”

Reluctantly, he does.

 

**. . .**

 

Louis is in the middle of cooking dinner when Harry comes bustling through the door, arms full of bags and a smile on his face. Louis jumps and almost drops a glass.

“Scare me like that again,” he pants as he bends over, “and you sleep outside.”

“A little dramatic,” Harry chirps as he puts the bags on the counter and looks at Louis expectantly.

Louis squints at him and freezes under his gaze.

Harry has his serial killer smile on, expecting Louis to catch on.

“What?” Louis says slowly, eying him cautiously.

“I’m ovulating,” Harry sings.

“Mmmm, seems about right,” Louis draws out hesitantly, still eyeing him up and down uncertainty.

“So you’re going to fuck me.”

Louis nods once and turns back to stirring the pasta.

“Louis.”

“I’m in the middle of dinner, Harry.”

“Please. Right now, over this counter. Just take me from behind.”

“And burn the pasta? Are you _crazy?!_ ”

“I don’t care about the pasta!"

“Well some of us do, Jesus Christ, it’s alfredo!”

“Okay,” Harry nods slowly. “Fine.”

“Babe,” Louis takes a bite of pasta before he turns around with his hands up. “Don’t get mad.”

Harry crosses his arms.

“Hey!” Louis points at him, “don’t do that. Uncross those arms.”

Harry pops his hip out.

“Not the hip, c’mon baby, not the hip,” he walks to Harry and puts his arms on his elbows gently.

If he looks close enough he can see Harry’s lip twitching, knowing he’s trying to fight off a smile and a blush.

“We’ll have sex tonight,” Louis assures. “I want it to be romantic though, okay?”

Harry hangs his head and lets out a sigh.

“Now I’m going to make you dinner, you’re going to go shower and relax, we’re going to have a nice night in together, and then I’m going to make love to you. Good?”

“Fine.”

Louis pokes his nose and gives him a peck before returning to the pasta.

A minute or so goes by.

“Harry, stop staring at my back and go shower.”

Harry huffs and stomps off.

 

**. . .**

“It was good,” Harry says, rubbing his stomach and pushing his plate away from him.

“How would you know,” Louis says around a mouthful of food, “you practically inhaled it.”

“Yes, because it was just so good.”

Louis raises an eyebrow. “You know what,” he nods and pushes his plate forward as well, “I’m so full. To full to move.”

“To move?”

“Mm,” Louis stands up and takes their plates to the kitchen, “that wouldn’t be a problem… would it?”

“Nope,” Harry squeaks.

Louis laughs softly as he places their dishes in the sink and comes back to grab Harry’s hand. He leads him up and into the bedroom.

When they get into the bedroom the first thing Harry notices is it smells like lavender.

“I put your lavender essential oil in the humidifier,” Louis explains, kissing the back of his neck. “Wanted you to be relaxed.”

“That…” Harry isn’t going to cry. “Is the nicest thing.”

There are candles on the nightstands beside their bed, room lit up in a warm, amber glow.

“Lou,”

“For you.”

“I’m going to cry.”

“No you’re not, c’mon.”

Louis leads him to the edge of the bed and directs him to sit.

“I’m going to spoil you tonight. It’s all about you.”

“Okay,” he whispers softly, overwhelmed with love.

Louis walks back to the T.V. and connects his phone to the AUX. “What would you like to play?”

“Something soft and romant—”

A 50 Cent song blasts through the room, speakers cracking with the high volume.

“Louis…?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he shuts it off quick and turns the volume down a little bit, “I was, uh, dancing. This morning. Anyway, is this good?”

 _Girl Crush_ by Little Big Town starts to play and Harry immediately wants him dead.

“No.”

“It’s slow!”

“Do you not listen to the lyrics? Jesus, Lou. You’re so—” he breaks off into a fit of giggles. “I love you so much.”

Louis smiles back at him as he puts a slow Beyoncé song on.

Harry rocks his head side to side with the beat, “Okay, yeah. I could fuck to this.”

“ _Make love._ ”

“Right, right. I mean make love, make a baby.”

“Right.” Louis takes his shirt off slowly, giving Harry his best bedroom eyes and a subtle smirk.

“Are you going to give me a lapdance?”

“No, take your shirt off.”

“Romantic. Thought you’d do it for me, at least,” Harry says as he fumbles out of his shirt, starting on his pants, too.

“I’m lazy.”

Harry rolls his eyes and leaves his jeans unbuttoned, spreading his thighs a bit. Louis steps out of his jean shorts and stalks towards Harry. When Louis is close enough, he grabs his hips and pulls him in on top of him.

Louis falls between his thighs and cups his cheeks, kissing him sweetly. They kiss for a few moments, Harry’s hands roaming Louis’ body as it picks up. When Harry lets a soft whine out and opens his mouth, Louis turns it dirty as he licks into his mouth and pushes him backwards to lay flat.

He grinds his hips down against Harry’s, rutting against the denim of his jeans. They’re both well on their way to full hardness as they find a rhythm against each other.

“Lou,” Harry rasps on a hard thrust, “please.”

“Okay,” Louis whispers. He slows down the kiss before pulling away.

Harry shuffles them up to the top of the bed, eyes never falling from Louis’ lips.

“I love being manhandled, Harold,” Louis pants, “but tonight is about you.”

Harry lets out a breath of a laugh and pulls Louis back in by the neck, kissing him deeply.

“Easy, easy. Slow remember?” Louis mumbles against his lips, pulling away to shuffle down his body.

He gently peels Harry’s jeans down while holding eye contact, kissing his inner thighs as soon as he has the chance. Harry’s tenting in his boxers, breath coming out in soft pants as he watches Louis in awe.

Louis pulls his boxers down, mouth watering at the sight of Harry’s cock glistening with precome already. He takes it in his hand, holding it in a loose fist and gives him a lazy few strokes.

“Please,” Harry’s voice cracks, biting into his bottom lip.

Louis swirls his tongue around the head of his cock and holds eye contact before sinking down completely, inching down slowly until he feels him hit the back of his throat. He constricts his throat muscles around him, causing Harry to let out a long groan.

Harry’s hands come to cup his head, not directing or pulling, just gently resting there and moving as he does.

“Fuck,” Harry moans as Louis speeds up, bobbing his head with intent now. “Your mouth.”

Louis eases a slick finger against his rim—which, when did he grab the lube? Harry spreads his legs wider and arches his back as he pushes his finger into him in one go.

Louis pulls off and kisses down his thighs as he pumps his finger in, easily adding in a second and scissoring them. He smiles against Harry’s thigh at the high pitched moan he lets out when he brushes his prostate.

He can sense Harry’s ready for another before he can get the words out. He eases a third finger in and pushes hard against his prostate, fingers rubbing in circles. Harry’s arm shoots out to grab at his wrist as his back arches.

“Louis, _oh._ Baby, oh my—”

“I love you so much,” Louis kisses his hipbone. “Gonna make love you to, nice and slow, love you so much.”

He kisses his way up Harry’s body as he rises to his knees, covering his own cock in lube and lining himself up. He kisses him before he looks down, bracing himself with a hand by his head.

He pushes in slowly, biting his own lip as Harry grips onto his hip to pull him in. He watches himself sink into Harry easily and sends a silent prayer to whoever created this beautiful man beneath him.

“Finally,” Harry huffs as he bottoms out, causing him to laugh.

He makes eye contact with him as he begins to thrust slowly, driving his hips in as deep as he can.

“I love you,” he breathes, “I love you so much, fuck.”

“Mmm,” Harry agrees, looking bored.

Louis keeps up the tortuously slow, ‘love making’ pace as he puts both hands on either side of Harry’s head. He looks up as he thrusts, squinting at the ceiling.

Harry clears his throat subtly. He wraps his legs around Louis’ hips and tries to pull him in with a heel on his ass.

“Okay,” Louis says, “are you tired of this vanilla shit, too?”

Harry nods quickly, “I love you but, please. _Fuck_ me.”

“Yeah? But you know I love you?”

“Always. Love you too,” Harry digs his nails into Louis’ ass.

“Okay, baby, as long as we’re clear."

“Crystal,” Harry squeaks as Louis begins to thrust into him hard, gripping his thigh to pull him down onto his cock.

They both moan and goan in unison, bodies finding their natural rhythm and reading off of eachother.

They don’t last long. As soon as Harry opens his filthy mouth and starts chanting _‘give it to me, Daddy, fuck me harder,”_ Louis knows he’s doomed. And as soon as Louis’ cock begins to hit Harry’s prostate head-on on every thrust, he knows he’s the one doomed.

Harry comes before Louis, arching his back and slamming a hand against the headboard as he shoots off between them. Louis goes to slow down but Harry insists he finishes, insists he fucks him even _harder_.

“I’m—”

“Yeah, that’s it, Lou,” Harry moans while coming down, “come in me.”

Louis nods against his neck as he thrusts in deeper, breath coming out in harsh pants.

“Fill me up with you baby, I want it. Come in me.”

Louis lets out a long, stuttering moan as he buries himself deep in Harry and comes. His hips jerk forward with each pulse, thighs and arms shaking.

When he comes to, Harry is smiling up at him and running his fingers through his hair.

“I think we did it,” Harry says.

“I fucking hope so,” Louis collapses on top of him after he pulls out, “I have a bet.”

 

**. . .**

 

A month and a half later, they’re on the floor of their shared bathroom, heads back against the wall with a timer running on Harry’s phone between them.

“You know,” Harry says, voice shaky, “the last time we were in this position you told me I had a small dick.”

“I still agree,” Louis says, lolling his head to the side to smile at Harry. “And I still agree time runs slower in this situation.”

“It’s been up for 5 minutes, I didn’t have the heart to tell you,” Harry admits, eyes trained on the popcorn ceiling.

He can feel Louis’ eyes on him.

“I don’t want to check it,” Harry shrugs.

“So you just… okay. Okay. I’ll check it.”

“Okay,” Harry smiles.

Louis smiles back.

“You haven’t moved yet,” Harry whispers.

“I know,” he whispers back, voice cracking.

“Together?”

“Together.”

‘Together’ apparently means ‘first one there gets to hold the pregnancy test over the other one’s head as they stand on the toilet to read it.’

“Harry,” Louis screams.

“What?” Harry says, irritated.

“You’re,” Louis clamps a hand over his mouth.

“No,” Harry’s eyes go wide.

Louis nods and turns the test towards him, revealing small letters reading ‘pregnant’.

“Oh my God,” Harry rips the test from his hands, running a hand through his hair. “Oh my God!”

Louis’ eyes start to water and tint red as he clasps both of his hands over his nose and mouth. Harry wraps his arms around his legs, lifting him from the toilet and spinning him in circles. Louis wraps his arms around his head and hugs him tightly, tears falling from his cheeks.

Harry sets him down and cups Louis’ cheeks. “Your talented, almost 30 sperm.”

Louis kisses him hard and nods against his lips.

“I gotta go get the ring,” Louis says as he pulls away from the kiss.

“What ring?” Harry mumbles, trying to dive back in for another.

“The ring, you asshole!”

“For what,” Harry tries to chase his lips, but Louis keeps trying to squirm out of his hold.

Louis pulls back and pauses, examining Harry’s face closely. He puts his hands on his stomach, smiling as he looks into his eyes. “So I can propose to you both, remember?”

“In this shitty bathroom?”

“No,” Louis laughs, “no, of course not. I have it custom made and everything, fuck. I’m so—”

Louis drops to his knees in front of Harry, caressing his stomach with his hands and staring at it in awe.

“Hey Kiwi,” Louis mumbles.

“Kiwi?”

“Yes, Kiwi. Small and furry, like a kiwi.”

“ _Furry?_ ” Harry interrupts.

“It’s me, your Papa.”

“Louis my heart is going to melt through my ass if you keep this up.”

Louis smiles up at Harry and kisses his tummy, “I love you both so fucking much, and I’m going to give you everything.”

Harry smiles down at him, biting his lip and willing his tears away.

His mind goes back to when he was sharing a shitty, cramped dorm room bed with Louis during his last year of university. They had agreed to live on campus as long as they could, so they could save up enough money to move into somewhere nice when Harry graduated. Louis was technically living off campus with some roommates, but was constantly in Harry’s single dorm.

 

 _They’re cuddled up on a shitty excuse for a mattress, something Louis swears was donated by prisons. Louis is laying ontop of him, tracing hearts into the pudge of his lower tummy._  

_“I can’t wait to marry you one day,” Louis just blurts out._

_“You…” Harry gulps, “you’ve thought about that?”_

_“Of course,” Louis admits softly. “I’m certain about you.”_

_“I want to marry you too, Lou.”_

_“You’re so beautiful, Haz.”_

_Harry laughs softly, combing his fingers through Louis’ hair, “I thought men can’t be beautiful?”_

_“That was before I saw the way you looked at me. I mean really saw it. Swear my heart stopped.”_

_Harry smiles, “yeah?”_

_“Yeah. I knew it was you, it’s always been you, I’m certain.”_

_“I love you.”_

_“It was also when I saw your lips wrapped around my cock for the first time.”_

_Harry swats the back of his head playfully, “Hey!”_

_“I’m kidding, I’m kidding, although that is a sight to see.”_

_“I am pretty hot sucking cock, I admit.”_

_“We gotta work on that ego,” Louis kisses his tummy and shimmies up his body._  

_“I love you,” Harry whispers, giving him a lazy peck._

_“Right back at you, Nerd.”_

 

Harry smiles down at Louis, still murmuring words into his stomach, and finally feels complete.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh! I hoped you liked this, I loved finally adding backstories. I'll try to do more on this verse, I definitely want to! 
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated !!


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